


Journaling the apocalypse, or whatever

by Kiraly



Category: A Redtail's Dream (Webcomic)
Genre: Crossover, Epistolary, Gen, Year 0 (Stand Still Stay Silent)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-16 22:39:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12352008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiraly/pseuds/Kiraly
Summary: The world is ending - at least, according to Tuomi. The internet isn't working, no one listens to him, and his sister is annoying. But of course, all anyone can talk about is some stupid rash.





	Journaling the apocalypse, or whatever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yuuago](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuuago/gifts).



> Happy Trick-or-Treat, yuuago! I got inspired when you mentioned an aRTD/SSSS Y0 crossover in your letter, so I decided to play around with the idea. So here's the angsty teenage version of the apocalypse, as told by Tuomi.

**This book belongs to TUOMI KINNUNEN. All others KEEP OUT! (This means you, Paju!!!)**

**Apocalypse Journal, Day 1**

The internet has been down for three hours and I’m going to die. 

I made the mistake of letting Paju hear me say that, and she went into a big stupid lecture about how when she was my age, kids played outside in the mud puddles and didn’t waste all day in front of a computer. Which is total crap, obviously. Because for one, Paju has never been muddy in her life. And two, she was never a kid, she has always been old and bossy.

Anyway, I told her that the internet crapping out is a BIG PROBLEM for me because how else am I supposed to learn new kantele songs? It’s bad enough that I have to keep transposing from the guitar, because most of the songs written for kantele are like, super old. And if I go for too long without writing a new song, then all of my feelings will build up inside until suddenly SPLAT! Explosion, guts and gore all over Paju’s nice clean kitchen floor. Super gross, not to mention I’d be super dead. Of course Paju doesn’t care about that. She just rolled her eyes and threw this notebook at my head. “Write your feelings down instead.” Wow, thanks. Sister of the year award.

Since I can’t watch kantele tutorials though, I might as well write in this stupid thing until the internet comes back. I can always use it for song lyrics or something.

Here’s one that just came to me:

Sister of the year   
Thinks she’s the best, but like, I hear   
She’s got a lemon for a heart   
Can’t cut no slack   
She’s way too tart   
And so my black   
Heart bleeds   
But she doesn’t care   
About me   
(Not sure about those last few lines. Work in progress. Maybe I’ll fix it later  _ when the damn internet is working. _ )

* * *

 

**Apocalypse Journal, Day 2**

Oh. My. Gods. The internet STILL isn’t working and I’m going INSANE! Mom promised to call the company, but she picked up an extra shift at the bakery again so it’s too late now. Paju says I should be nicer because Mom is having a stressful time at work, apparently it’s “really busy” because everyone is worried about “that rash illness”. Stupid. I don’t see why everyone is freaking out about that when we have a REAL ACTUAL PROBLEM in this town. There is. No. Internet!

I actually asked my so-called friends about it when I couldn’t stand it anymore, and none of them have working internet either. This shitty town, nothing ever works right. Maybe I should run off and live in the woods.

Except the stupid woods don’t have internet either.

* * *

 

**Apocalypse Journal, Day 3**

Still no internet. Mom and Paju actually seem worried now, but it’s still about that stupid rash or whatever. Apparently people aren’t going to work because of it, so that’s why no one has come out to fix our shitty broken internet. I hate everything.

Even my annoying friends are talking about the rash now. They said it’s killing people, but that sounds like crazy talk. Who the hell dies from a rash?

* * *

 

**Apocalypse Journal, Day 4**

I wanted to go to the city today, but Mom said no, it’s too risky. Because, you guessed it, the RASH might get me! What the fuck.

After Mom and Paju went to work, I decided to go anyway, but I waited at the bus stop and it never came. Old Pekka came nosing around and told me they stopped the bus service until the rash scare dies down. Which is just GREAT, because how am I supposed to get anywhere? What if someone here got the rash and needed to go to the hospital?

And now I’m talking about the rash like it’s actually important. This internet withdrawal is getting to me. Screw writing, I’m going to play my kantele. Old songs are better than no songs.

* * *

 

**Apocalypse Journal, Day 5**

People are leaving town. Not for the city, which is where any  _ sane  _ person would go—hello? Civilization? I bet they have internet in the city—but for their little cabins in the woods or whatever. Like. We already live in the middle of nowhere. How much more “safe” can you get?

I’m getting tired of these same shitty kantele songs. I wish I could look up some new ones.

* * *

 

**Apocalypse Journal, Day 6**

Mom and Paju are talking about leaving, too. But leaving is STUPID, we’re fine here! Even if there have been reports of the rash in the city. Not like it’s gonna get here, if there aren’t any buses. And anyway, we don’t have anywhere to go. When I said that, Mom got really quiet and Paju yelled at me.

* * *

 

**Apocalypse Journal, Day 7**

On top of all the other weird shit that’s happening, I had one of  _ those  _ dreams again last night. Usually, they’re nice dreams: I’m in the quiet place by the lake, with no one to bother me while I play. And my friend is there—yeah, it’s stupid that I’m friends with a  _ magic talking hare,  _ but it is a dream, after all. He’s better company than the friends I have to put up with in real life.

This time, it wasn’t so great. Hare was there, but he wasn’t really paying attention to my music. He kept twitching, and hopping away and coming back. When I asked about it, he said “Everything sucks.” And then he started going off about the other animal spirits and magic getting twisted and some kind of sickness. Which is when I stopped him, because, like, I’m SO tired of people talking about getting sick. I get enough of that with Mom and Paju and the ENTIRE TOWN talking about this rash thing. I never want to have to hear about it again. When I said all that, Hare sighed. 

“Me too. We should just stay here forever. Then we won’t have to worry.”

And yeah, that’d be cool. The dream place is pretty sweet. But it’s a DREAM. I can’t exactly choose to stay there, right? I mean, Paju woke me up before I even got a chance to answer him.

There’s some kind of meeting so the people in town (the ones who haven’t left yet) can “decide what to do” to stay safe from the rash. I pointed out that staying in the house was probably the best thing to do, but Paju ignored me and went anyway.

* * *

 

**Apocalypse Journal, Day ?**

Ha! I knew this didn’t get left behind. It was in Paju’s box of books, hidden between a dictionary and a math book (which, let’s be honest, no one is ever going to use again). She  _ said  _ she checked for it, but of course she just wanted me to be quiet and leave her alone. Some things never change.

So yeah, we’re apparently having a real, actual apocalypse at this point. No phones, no electricity, and oh, yeah—weird-ass monsters coming out of the woods. Some of them used to be animals. Some of them...didn’t. But apart from the whole “trying to kill people” thing they also carry the rash, so that’s a big NOPE.

Since I last wrote (I have NO idea how long it’s been, no one cares anymore) the group of us who were left in Hokanniemi decided to move to one of the islands on the lake. There was an old building on one of them, some kind of fort or something, so we fixed it up and are living there. And when I say “we” I mean Paju volunteered me to help, and even though I said NO that old slave driver Jouko made me do it anyway. At least he was too busy yelling at his own kids to notice if I went off to play my kantele sometimes.

Music feels...different than it used to. I always played to make me feel better, or (sometimes) to piss off Paju if she was being annoying. But now it’s like I feel...safer...when I have my kantele with me. Sometimes I like to play by the shore, the way I do in dreams, and maybe it’s my imagination but I think it helps keep the monsters away.

I asked Hare, and he said it probably is helping. He tells me lots of things now—I have those dreams all the time. Hare says it’s magic, which sounds like bullshit but then again so does a rash that turns people into monsters. Anyway, out of all the things that are going crazy, I’m glad I still have Hare. He might just be a dream, but I hope he isn’t. If rash monsters are real, maybe he is, too.

Anyway, it’s nice to find this old journal, I guess. I need the paper for writing down songs. Hare has been helping me learn some, but I have to write them down as soon as I wake up or I forget. And since I’ve been playing more, I’ve had a few people mention other songs they remember from way back in the day. They ask me to play them sometimes. Paju says it’s comforting, to have something traditional when everything is changing. I say Paju is being smug, as usual. But it is kinda nice to have people appreciate me for once. And who knows, maybe some of those old songs will be good for something. 


End file.
